


All for Nothing

by Zeona



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bad Ending, Connor Anderson, Dying Connor, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Hank Being Awesome, Other, Somewhat bad ending, daderson, good ending, hank is a dad, hurt Connor, three endings, unreliable author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-21 19:43:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14921676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeona/pseuds/Zeona
Summary: Connor falls dangerously ill and Hank calls for help.This story has three different endings I have planned for!





	1. To Fall Ill

It happened overtime. Slowly.

Connor doesn’t notice at first. Or maybe he refuses to believe it when it starts. It’s the little things, really.

Connor would be playing with Sumo, petting the oversized and floppy-eared dog. Hank would be snoring away in his bedroom, dead to the world.

Time would pass this way. It always has, since the success of the revolution. Freedom is enlightening, a breath of fresh air and so so frighteningly  _ normal _ .

Then Sumo would bark at him, breaking him out of his thoughts. When he looks down at the dog, he would realize his grip on Sumo’s scruff is too tight.

It takes more than a little mental push for his circuits to kick into action and for his fingers to uncramp.

Sometimes, it’s while he’s on a mission. He might stutter in his step while on a chase. Stumble over air when his foot lags behind.

Once, his visual receptors glitch out on him, blacking everything out for a second. It scares Connor more than he’d admit.

It worsens over the weeks.

More than a couple of times, while Hank is talking to him, he receives everything but doesn’t understand any of it.

He manages to make up for the present in body, absent in spirit briefings by religiously analyzing the evidence with even more vigour to it. Most of the time, he can get away with it, executing his mission with no trouble.

Hank asks about it once, when he catches him ‘forgetting’ something. He lies and tells Hank he was taking in some other evidence and wasn’t focussed on the older man.

Hank accepts the excuse.

Other times, when taking Sumo out for a walk, he stops and stands still.

The longest he ever phased out like that was 20 minutes. Sumo was very unhappy about that, barking at him and snuffling at him until he finally moves.

There’s a mortifying time when he’s playing with his coin in the lift that his brain frizzels out on him and he drops the coin. Hank laughs for an embarrassingly long amount of time.

Connor pretends to find it amusing when silently, he quakes with fear and worry.

He knows that there’s something wrong. He knows that when his movements slow or stutter, when his speech half slurs and glitches and when his thoughts shut down on him once in awhile, it means something has gone wrong.

He gets it checked out by an android doctor. He doesn’t trust human mechanics. The Lucy, one of Markus’s friends, tells him his systems are corrupted and grossly outdated.

Turns out that in the past, when he reported back to Cyberlife or to Amanda, his systems clear themselves, upgrading and maintaining everything.

Amanda will have a specific and different set of codes for each time he visits.

Only Cyberlife had the codes to upgrade his model. Even then, it’s unlikely that they still have those codes. RK900 has replaced him more than a year ago. RK800 is a mostly extinct species. He’s the only model left of himself.

Even if that weren’t the case, Connor doesn’t want to go back. He knows Amanda will only terminate him. She doesn’t care about ‘Android freedom’.

To Cyberlife, he’s scrap metal, waiting to be shutdown.

Connor muses that it’s a good way to keep their android soldiers in line. If they become deviant, erase everything they know. Make sure they can never function normally.

Make sure that they can never give away secrets.

Make sure he never becomes human.

He doesn’t want to break the fragile life he’s built for himself. He’s a policeman now, with an actual job as Hank’s partner with really crappy pay and attitude from the rest of his colleagues (not that Hank’s grumpy attitude to him changes but that’s not the point).

Hank is like his dad now, letting the android stay in his house, teaching him some humanity skills. Sumo treats him like any other human and he himself dotes on the dog like no one ever has before.

The fact that his systems are a little slower doesn’t change that.

It can’t.

So he never tells Hank.

It gets so bad that even on ‘good’ days, his motions lag dangerously slow, his words escape him and he might change topics unknowingly mid sentence.

Connor goes back to check up with Lucy, the android doctor. She tells him he’s got a low chance of coming out of this unscathed. Even if he does, it’s likely he’ll remain damaged.

He tries his best to live life normally.

He still takes Sumo on walks. He talks to himself in the mirror softly, makes sure he doesn’t mix up his words. He listens to the television or the radio, recites everything back to himself as best as he can. He makes sticky notes and physical diary entries to remind himself of where he is, who he is, what he’s done and what he’s doing.

He still forgets.

It’s hard keeping it a secret from Hank. The man loves him, even if he isn’t good at showing it. Connor supposes it’s every human’s flaw.

The man becomes more and more like a father-figure to him each day, making sure he’s got clothes, that he’s okay after every mission. Ensures that Connor has everything he needs and wants and practically beats up anyone who bullies Connor in front of the old man.

He can’t hide it anymore when one day, he’s watching a movie and he forgets. He forgets everything except that he’s deviant and he’s in danger of being terminated.

He bursts out of his bedroom mid afternoon, pistol in hand. His hoodie has a triangular patch torn off where it used to indicate his being an android. A beanie he hasn’t worn since winter covers the LED on the side of his head.

He sneaks into the living room, fear pounding hard and confusion making everything blurry.

When he hears his name hastily whispered behind him, Connor spins, the safety clicked off and pointed at an old man’s forehead by the time he has fully turned.

The man freezes, cursing at him and asking him to ‘put the bloody gun down right now, Connor.’

Connor swallows hard. He asks who the man is, why he’s here and who he’s with. The reply only scares him.

“I’m your Dad.”

Connor blinks. Then he narrows his eyes. He tells the man to stop playing with him or he’ll shoot him and run. The man shrugs, as if he isn’t bothered by the gun at his head. His eyes tell a different story.

The man tells him he got the adoption papers a few days ago. Got everything finalized today and came back to surprise him with the news. The man slowly draws out the bunch of papers from his jacket.

_ Report of Adoption. _

_ Petitioned by: Hank Anderson _

_ Proposed New Name of Person: Connor Anderson _

The next thing he knows, the gun is far away, left on the floor with the safety on. Hank’s name is on his lips and his eyes are wet. With a crackly, broken sob, he blurts out the other man’s name like a question.

Hank curses softly and pulls him into a tight embrace, pressing Connor’s head tightly to his cheek. Connor clamps his fingers tight around the man and stays there long enough for it to cramp. After a couple of minutes, Connor pulls away.

He tells Hank everything.

He’s nervous and fidgety when he’s done. Will Hank still want him? He knows that he’s not useful anymore now that he’s losing himself. He just hopes that Hank won’t regret his decision of adopting him now. He hopes he can still stay in the house and play with Sumo and snark with Hank even if Hank doesn’t want him as a partner or a friend or a son.

He hears Hank mutter another curse before pulling Connor back into a hug, a muttered litany of ‘you’ll always be my son,’ escaping into the air.

Belatedly, and more than just little horrified, Connor realizes he’s spoken his thoughts aloud without meaning to. Without realizing. Hank’s words brush it all away and then he’s crying too.

He may be an android.

He may be shutting down.

He may be useless forever.

But at least he’s wanted.

At least he’s Hank’s son now and still and forever.

At least he’s becoming human.

The next few months are even harder. Hank dives into looking for a ‘cure’. Something. Anything to stop this disease crawling around in Connor’s head and limbs and system.

He refuses to believe that there’s no way to help his newly adopted son. He researches androids. He goes to mechanics, to stores and libraries and online forums. He gets to know Connor’s model inside and out.

He makes sure he knows what a thirium pump is, how to replace a damaged audio receptor or an eye. He figures out how to reattach android guts and reboot them.

Hank knows all these things but he still doesn’t know how to fix Connor and the android is getting worse.

Connor starts forgetting more things. It never comes quite as suddenly and as strongly as that time with Hank ever again, but it does get worse. And it becomes more frequent and permanent.

In the end, he has no choice but to resign himself from the force. He stays at home, numb with this new turn of events. Hank isn’t sure how to comfort him either. He tries though.

He changes in and out of his uniform when Connor isn’t around. He tries not to talk about cases unless Connor asks.

Connor isn’t sure if he’s happy or upset about that. Police Work had always made him happy, even before he was a deviant. He enjoyed the action and the thrill of the hunt, the search, the unearthing of evidence.

Now, he can barely even stroke Sumo without cramping up. He walks with a jagged and ugly limp on most days and can barely clasp a television remote what with his hands never obeying him.

He phases out more often and he knows only because when he comes to himself, Hank talks, picking up from wherever he last left off with and pretending he hasn’t noticed that Connor has just shut him out unintentionally.

His right arm and leg don’t cooperate as much, so he weighs heavily on his left to do things. Unfortunately, his left eye receptor has decided to act up, all glitchy and static even when he replaces parts.

Lucy tells him it’s in his system, inbuilt in his code. It’s not about how many parts he replaces. It’s not about carefully oiled joints and cleaned gears and a new body. To ever be himself again, he needs to not be himself anymore. Restart from scratch as a new android, a new person. A not Connor.

Hank is furious when Connor raises that idea of replacing himself. The old man won’t take a new Connor lookalike over a busted Connor. Connor’s relieved. He’s not sure how he’d have felt if Hank had wanted to replace him. He won’t blame him even if he does.

He’ll feel sad maybe.

Incredibly sad.

The first time Connor calls Hank ‘Dad’ is on a bad day.

Hank comes home to him rocking on the floor, shattered glass and scattered digital pads and files around him. Sumo is snuffling at the seemingly catatonic android, licking a cheek and getting no response.

When Connor finally registers that Hank has come home, he beams. Smiles a crooked smile with tears in his eyes and a tightness in his chest and then oh  _ he’s crying he’s not numb anymore and Hank, I don’t wanna die I-I think I’m gonna die I’m scared please D-dad I don’t w-wan-wanna die! _

It’s a tough day for all of them.

Hank and Connor go visit Lucy as much as all their schedules allow. It’s never good news. It just gets worse every time.

His fingers aren’t working properly, motor control weak and unsteady. He has to wear something on a few of his fingers just so he can move them.

Poor cognitive memory. His eye weakens and sometimes shuts down completely. There’s no help for that.

His right leg grows ever heavier on him. Lucy helps him with a brace and a special walker, built to clamp around his wrists since he can’t grip the handles.

He hates it.

His shoulders refuse to cooperate sometimes and his hips can barely rotate on bad days. Lucy brings up an option of amputating or deactivating his legs

Take a wheelchair instead of new clunky braces to accommodate this new breakdown. Hank gets extremely furious and they leave and come back the next day and Lucy never mentions it again.

They do take the wheelchair though, for bad days.

Sometimes, Connor forgets. He forgets things told to him almost instantly sometimes and needs Hank to tell him four or five times for him to even retain it for a short while.

He mixes up his words or doesn’t remember how to express himself. He confuses ‘falling’ with ‘building’ and ‘bad days’ with ‘dead’ and other stupid things like that.

He is rapidly deteriorating. Connor thinks that it’s ironic. In a now mostly immortal android populated Detroit, he’s dying.

Hank takes more time off work to help care for Connor. Where once the sticky note reminders are for Hank to do menial tasks, it is now replaced for Connor.

_ My name is Connor. I’m a deviant in a deviant-friendly world. _

_ My Dad is Hank. He adopted me. He’s a cop. _

_ The dog is Sumo. _

_ You are not in danger. _

_ Don’t forget your brace. _

_ Use wheelchair on bad days. _

_ DO NOT use gun on Dad. *small picture of Hank and Connor attached.* _

_ Feed the dog, Sumo _

_ Hank comes back at 8pm on most days. _

_ Don’t panic don’tpanDON’TPANICDON’TP DONT. PANIC. _

A few months after, Lucy calls them in.

She thinks there might be a way to stop it. She gives him a new thirium pump and something that should attach to the side of his head, sleek and smooth, that will circle his left ear and trail down his jaw to where his neck connects to his head.

It will run a cleansing code routinely to break down the harmful code cycling in his system. He may not recall everything he’s already forgotten but it will allow him to heal.

Hank nearly jumps for joy and Sumo barks happily.

The process of installing all of the new equipment is never sweet and easy.

It’s the first time Connor feels pain when they drill into his head to remove the plates and shift wires so the new attachment can fit in.

It's pain that courses through him and makes him flail and jerk against straps. It’s exquisite, full of fire and it tears into his mind like a hooked blade wielded by a mad man.

Hank bellows from the outside of the operating room, telling them to at least give him sweet oblivion.

They can’t. The procedure has already started and they need him functioning for them to locate specific parts.

Connor cries.

He’s scared.

He’s so scared.

_ Dad? H-help me? _

Hank roars and yells and curses outside of the room. Androids keep him out,making sure he won’t interrupt their work.

The procedure lasts two hours. He doesn’t come out of it unscathed.

His left eye can never be salvaged thanks to a complication mid operation. He’s awake for all of it and when they finally sear shut the opening in the side of his head, successfully attaching the code cleanser, he’s a shaking mess, stuttering and groaning quietly to himself.

Hank is no better. He’s stressed, pissed and worried. He curses at everyone and everything as they slowly unstrap Connor from the operation table.

Connor vaguely registers Hank rushing to his side. He can faintly hear Lucy or some other android tell Hank that he’ll remain the same for a few weeks maybe before they can tell if the procedure has worked or not.

Hank prays it does.

He slings Connor’s arm over his shoulders, tugging the weary android along as he helps him with his brace and walker. Sumo is silent, tail droopy and shoulders hunched as he walks beside Hank.

They get home with no other trouble.

For the next few days, Hank takes time off work. He tries to keep off the drink, telling himself he needs to be sober for Connor.

The next few days seem longer and harsher. Connor stutters over every word and sometimes he will shake for hours, uncontrollably. Hank makes sure the android is comfortable, helps him around the house and makes sure any walking hazards are out of the way.

Sumo is blessedly cooperative. He sticks by Connor’s side, letting the android stroke his flank or scratch his head. There is little complaint from the large canine even when Connor’s hands don’t obey and clench his scruff painfully.

Connor’s brain is a scrambled mess, jumping from thought to idea. He can barely focus on small things, easily distracted. For once, he’s glad his left eye no longer works because his right spasms all the time, analysing everything new in sight.

The wait is endless. Days pass by.


	2. The Good End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the first ending. It is short compared to the previous chapter. Enjoy!

Tick. Tock.

Connor watches Hank drink badly brewed coffee.

Tick Tock.

Hank goes back to work and Connor watches the clock.

Tick Tock.

Connor sits on the porch and Sumo runs around the yard.

Tick Tock.

Connor feeds Sumo a chocolate chip cookie secretly when Hank isn’t watching because he’s too busy sneaking a drink.

Tick Tock.

Connor accidentally breaks Hank’s secret stash of whiskey. Hank isn’t angry.

Tick Tock.

The first sign of improvement is small and Connor nearly doesn’t notice it. His hands twitch. At first he thinks that it’s getting worse.

He gets up one morning with considerably less rusty movement. He manages to swing his legs off the couch. Connor is so surprised and unused to having mobility in his hips, he topples over and onto the floor with a crash.

Sumo woofs and comes running, his large mass nearly skidding him over as well when he stops to check on the android.

It takes Connor 10 minutes to use Sumo and the couch to get up, another 5 to steady himself on the walker and 673 shuffling steps before he remembers Hank isn’t around to share the news with.

When Hank does get home, Connor has managed to practice standing without his walker, hands behind back at attention by the door as he had once used to.

Hank is so surprised, he drops his bag of burgers and two donuts roll out for Sumo to wolf down.

Hank doesn’t care. He’s pulling Connor into an awkward hug,tugging him forward so he stumbles a little. Connor’s arms and hands still don’t work so well so he awkwardly clasps onto Hank with a cramped fist and a slightly too limp arm.

Things only get better.

Over the following weeks, his speech improves. Hank doesn’t need to take 3 minutes deciphering a sentence Connor’s got the vocabulary mixed up of.

Connor wonders out loud if bagels eat cat food one time while Hank is watching television. Hank looks at him in confusion. Connor takes a long moment to fumble out the right word before he eventually says ‘Sumo’.

Hank is so proud that Connor actually managed to correct himself that he makes the android repeat the sentence correctly twelve times before asking him ‘what kinda half-baked ass question was that?’

He walks better too, his gait smoothening out and his back straightening. He still limps and visit Lucy regularly but he’s getting better.

The thought that he might return to the workforce sends a thrill shooting through Connor.

He strives to return to the normalcy that once was.

He takes Sumo back on long and incredibly slow walks with the help of a walker and accompanied by stares from passersby.

He slowly gets rid of the brace, loses the wheelchair with surprising rapidity and forces away the uneven footsteps in his walk.

Hank sometimes walks with him, on good days when Connor isn’t too pressured by everything and anything.

Hank asks once on their walk if he regrets turning deviant. Connor is silent for a long time.

They make a round around the neighbourhood and return home. Hank takes a bath before joining Connor on the couch. Connor responds.

“I-I think tha-that even though turning pers-person made me b-be-become… the falling- no, no… er. Become broken… I hav-have a gro-group- uh, family now. A family. And I don’t scar-scared that I became person.”

Hank stares at Connor a long time before he pulls him into a one-sided hug.

Connor will never feel actual temperatures but he thinks he feels warm inside. He snuggles closer to Hank.

His hands take months to recover and he spends weeks at a shooting ring practicing his aim.

Hank makes him pick stuff up or prepare food. Connor makes a consistently really bad coffee with his lousy hand, drops four of his donuts in a day, shatters two cups and seven plates and gets better.

He works around his new blindness too. Sometimes Connor knocks stuff over or gets surprised by Sumo coming on on his blind side. He has half his vision now though the rest of his visual functions are working.

He’s grateful for the little things.

When he visits Lucy, she tells him he will get past this struggle and he would never be the same again. A better man, were her words.

Connor isn’t sure what she means but he finds it a comfort and holds on to that.

Markus visits him, once, when Connor allows himself visitors. It’s been so long really and Connor realizes that he hasn’t really seen much of anyone the past 4 years other than Hank, Lucy and Sumo.

He was afraid, Connor thinks. He was afraid what they might think of him. He used to hunt them, after all. He was embarrassed too. An android, dying…

Connor invites Markus to sit and joins him a slow few seconds later. He still uses a walker though it’s simpler to use since he needs less support. Markus is polite to Hank who quickly rushes off for work.

When they’re left alone, Markus asks how he is. Connor tells him a little of his condition and the backstory. He ends off on a positive note, reciting his improvements since. Then, because the guilt is overwhelming, he apologises for not having visited sooner, or inviting the other androids over or even telling them of his condition. Maybe he should’ve given an explanation for his sudden absence at least.

Markus holds no grudge or ill-will. There is only understanding from the android. He tells Connor that his charge and human father had once been sickly and wheelchair bound. Carl had never liked much company anyway. He preferred his paints to interaction and he always used to say he had Markus for all that nonsense anyway. 

Connor smiles, thinking about Hank and his socially ineptness.

 He asks about the rest of the androids’ wellbeing. Markus tells him that while some, thanks to good relations and with their once human masters, have had help and managed to integrate into society, most are not so fortunate.

Many stay in empty warehouses and set up makeshift jobs for themselves. A public place and safe haven for androids. Few humans find themselves there. He and North have managed to settle down in an extremely small place for themselves and are planning to actually be wed soon.

Connor wonders about android babies but thinks it’s probably impolite to raise the question so congratulates them instead.

Markus wishes him a quick recovery and good health before citing his need to leave.

Connor waves the android goodbye at the doorway and life moves on. He’s more welcome to open his doors then, to androids but doesn’t receive many visitors.

He works on improvement.

He walks in circles around the house, falls over or trips over things he can see and can’t. He talks to Sumo, to Hank, to himself.

He recites poetry and quotes and headlines and entire news articles from memory and drives Hank up the wall with his incessant muttering.

He makes a better coffee and doesn’t spill too much. He stops dropping donuts and plates and only fumbles with cups. He bounces a ball and goes for shooting practice even when his hand shakes so much he misses the target entirely.

He scans things and tells Hank every scrap of detail and then tries to bring them back to memory hours later. Hank leaves him with a schedule he tries to memorize.

Connor improves by leaps and bounds, in trickles and crawls and kicking and clawing.

He can retain information for longer periods and rarely forgets. He slowly stops mixing up his words and rids himself of any issue with his legs and back and shoulders.

It takes him months and months but he manages to make a shot through his coin; a dead centre.

It takes him two weeks after that to regain enough dexterity and confidence to flip his coin and dance it on his fingers.

He’s so proud he cries for an hour until Hank comes back.

This is what it means to be human, Connor thinks one day.

He’s not entirely better. Sometimes he does have relapses and his hands would stutter and his leg might lock up. Still, he’s improved.

He doesn’t think he will ever experience hunger or thirst or need to go through the natural processes of defecation or digestion or respiration even.

Yet, Connor has fought. He fought for his freedom then fought for his existence. He felt physical pain and more than that, emotional pain. He wants and yearns and loves and hates and he has a family.

A family! He never would have imagined that he would have a father - a biological being who had a hand in a child’s birth and their upbringing. He’s come to realize a father doesn’t mean just that.

A father is a man who cares and loves someone with a ferocity earth’s hellfire cannot match, with a willingness and without condition. It is a bond that cannot be described even though Connor has so many words to say.

Maybe he could imagine having a dog, though never a dog like Sumo. Loyal and understanding and helpful and absolute and uncaring for his being as an android.

Connor sits and thinks for the better portion of the day and the evening.

He decides he’s given up everything he’s known, yes. He gave up Cyberlife and gave up peace with himself for confusion. He gave up certainty in his standing and gave up strength and confidence to be like people. He gave all and in return…

He got a broken eye and a life-threatening illness that he will never be fully recovered from. He got love and devotion. He got friends and family and people who care. He cares. He feels so strongly with a passion. He is more than his biocomponents, more than a tool and certainly more than a machine.

He is human.

When Hank returns, Connor is joyous.

He laughs, the sound clear and sudden and never heard before. Hank is so surprised by it, he stares in silent shock at Connor.

He repeats it to Hank, over and over.

“I’m human.”

He laughs and turns to Sumo who barks, the joy infectious.

“I’m human!”

Hank smiles, soft and gentle and so unlike him and all Connor can think of is that _this is what it means to be human._

He was broken and damaged and deviant.

“I’m human, Dad.”

He is fixed and patched and not quite whole.

“I’m human.”

He doesn’t breathe or sleep and he feels alive.

_“I have become human.”_


	3. The Inbetween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I think you know where this is going.
> 
> Enjoy.
> 
> Also not my best piece of work. Sounds awkward at best but I tried!

Tick. Tock.

Connor watches Hank drink badly brewed coffee.

Tick Tock.

Hank goes back to work and Connor watches the clock.

Tick Tock.

Connor sits on the porch and Sumo runs around the yard.

Tick Tock.

Connor feeds Sumo a chocolate chip cookie secretly when Hank isn’t watching because he’s too busy sneaking a drink.

Tick Tock.

Connor accidentally breaks Hank’s secret stash of whiskey. Hank isn’t angry.

Tick Tock.

“We can run a scan on his base coding to see if the virus is still active,” Lucy says after weeks have passed but nothing has changed.

Hank twists his hands nervously. Connor thinks it’s not a good sign on the Lieutenant. He’s always confident in his convictions or anger or even confusion. That he acts worried now makes Connor feel on edge.

Lucy tells him the deterioration seems to have stopped. She doesn’t say much more until prompted by Hank.

He’s apparently reached a stagnant point where he is not going to get better but not worse either. He will still forget and his limbs will never function the same again but he will live.

Connor isn’t sure if he should be happy. Hank just seems relieved.

Hank drives them all home, Sumo on Connor’s lap in the back seat and loud music being played considerably softer than usual.

“At least you’re not gonna die,” is all Hank says at last.

Connor shrugs, stroking a cramped fist over Sumo’s flank.

“Do y-you-you still wa-want me?” Connor finally says. His expression doesn’t change and there isn’t a hitch in his movement, like he’s merely asked about the weather.

Hank looks at him in the rearview mirror before slowing the car to a stop. He turns behind, one arm propped up on the seat beside him.

“I will always want you, Connor. I don’t care if you’re bloody annoying or a pain in the ass or if you’re a comatose android stuck in bed for the rest of your life. I’ll still want you and and love you, got that, son?”

A tear drips down Connor’s face and he hums.

Hank stares at him for a long moment before he sighs. Connor has lost whatever attention that was on him. Hank turns back and drives.

Connor doesn’t forget it though. If it’s everything he forgets, he doesn’t forget this.

 The days are long and harsh still.

Connor stumbles around with his walker and tries as much as he can to cope with this permanent way of life. 

His hope for what could have been has died out and Connor finds himself drifting aimlessly.

He tries hard to handle everything as best as he can.

He forgets and remembers, slips up and patches things again, wounds and heals and does five million other things and their counterparts.

Hank struggles too. He’s getting old and the past few years have been even harder on him. He’s gotten more hate for being an android supporter what with those racists becoming bolder. Even more so because he has one living in his own home and legally his son.

Hank tries to keep his cool with difficult people like Gavin. Still, it doesn’t stop him from returning home at least once a month with bruised knuckles and a bloodied lip at best.

Connor tries to show his appreciation for the man but he forgets so often, he wonders why he’s even trying.

There is knocking on the door and it takes Connor a long moment to actually arrive at the door. It takes him more fumbling minutes to work his uncooperative hands around the doorknob. Surprisingly, Captain Fowler appears at the doorway.

“Ca-Ca-Cap-” Connor can’t quite remember the entirety of the word and changes midway, “-Sir?”

The man stands uncomfortably at the doorway, his bald head shining with a bit of sweat.

Fowler looks him up and down and opens his mouth as if to say something before visibly changing his mind.

Dread fills Connor even though he can’t quite tell why. He feels like he’s forgetting something. Or someone. He feels afraid for… for something…

Words come out of the Captain’s mouth but he doesn’t catch any of it. He needs him to repeat thrice before he can register anything.

“Hank got into an accident.”

It takes Connor an embarrassingly long amount of time to connect Hank with _Dad_ and then worry.

Fowler offers to drive him to the hospital. Connor tells him to wait. He wants to get some of Hank’s clothes in case he needs them.

Connor doesn’t feel anything when he gets into Hank’s room and searches for clothes. He hums and totters around the room and forgets for a blessed minute before memory hits him again.

Captain Fowler appears at the doorway, asking if he needs help. Connor blinks at the man, confused at his presence before asking why he’s here. the Captain has to go through the whole story again.

This time, Fowler accompanies him and helps him do things.

It takes a full hour before they’re on the road. Sumo follows even though the Captain seems reluctant to have the _mangy mutt shedding over my car_.

They reach the hospital and are led to a room. Connor stares at Hank lying on the hospital bed.

His car had collided with a suspect’s vehicle, glass shattered and sliced his cheek and ear and embedded in his skull and his ribs had been crushed.

Connor can’t remember the rest of the myriad of injuries but he only knows that Hank is in critical condition.

He sits by Hank’s bed for the rest of the day and night and nurses can’t force him to leave.

He forces himself to repeat it. He doesn’t want to forget.

_Hank is injured. I have to take care of him._

_Hank is injured. I have to take care of him._

_Hank is injured. I have to take care of him._

Dad _is injured. I have to take care of him._

It’s two days later when Hank passes away. He never wakes up to say goodbye to Connor.

Connor folds Hank’s arms and prepares him for some fancy funeral few will attend,crying the whole time. 

Sumo whines, barely touches the food nurses are kind enough to bother to feed the dog with.

Connor isn’t sure who to tell outside of the force who would have already been notified. His wrecked biocomponent scrambles for names and connections. He cries for most of that period too.

He’s so dazed from the crying he forgets for a while what’s happened. When he comes to himself hours later, he’s so frightened he spends an hour with a blade and carves Hank’s full name all over his own arms and legs and torso.

He struggles with the funeral preparations and in frustration manages to scrap enough will and memory together to find a list of phone numbers in Hank’s room. He calls the Captain because he has no one else to call.

Fowler says he’ll be late because of work but he’ll be there.

Connor doesn’t know how to cope well.

He spends time crying, numb, mildly angry. The worst thing is, he can barely sustain those emotions for long. He forgets with a rapidity that frightens him.

He works hard to remember and it isn’t long before the house is filled with even more reminders.

_Take out the trash._

_Hank is dead._

_Wash Sumo._

_Prepare Hank’s funeral._

_Clothes for Hank’s funeral._

_Don’t call Han_ _Dad. You can’t call Dad._

_Dad is dead._

_Call Captain Fowler at 8pm every day._

_Walk Sumo._

 D _ad is dead._

_You are dying._

_Get yourself ready for funeral._

_Remember your speech_

_Dad is dead_

_*Photo of Hank and Connor*_

_*Photo of Hank*_

_*Photo of Hank and Sumo*_

_*Photo of Hank and Connor*_

_Dad is dead._

_Dad is dead._

Connor goes to the funeral in a badly ironed suit he fumbled with for an hour. Hank is dressed nicely too. Pristine. Clean. Trimmed.

_Dad is dead._

He looks at the cards in his hand, mouths it over and over quietly. He’s nervous and scared and unsure. Every one who is there is either indifferent to him or dislikes him. Even he isn’t sure what Captain Fowler thinks of him.

Sumo snuffles next to him, huffing comfortingly against his leg. He bares his teeth at any possible hostile person who comes near Connor.

When it’s Connor’s turn to speak, he takes a long while getting to the front, fumbling with his walker. Sumo refuses to leave his side and to be honest, Connor isn’t truly compelled to shoo him away.

He stands at the front, shaking and afraid and nervous and fumbles through his words. He hopes he says them all right. His mind isn’t working any better with the grief clouding his head.

“H-Ha-Hank was an amaz-amaz-amazing person.

He gets past the first sentence and stops. The stutter is too much. They’ve lost interest. He’s going to fail Hank. He’s-

“I’ll take over.”

Connor looks up and he realizes it’s Markus. He has no idea why the android is here or why he would want to but he’s grateful.

When he goes to walk off, Markus grips his arm, makes Connor stand beside him. He takes the script from Connor’s hands.

“Stand tall and proud, Connor,” Markus murmurs quietly to him before standing tall and upright himself, facing the crowd of mourners. When he next speaks, it’s with Connor’s voice, clear and loud and without stutter.

“Hank was an amazing person. He was absolutely vulgar and stupid and ridiculously reckless and I think he would’ve liked ending with a bang.

Any bang at all. I find it regrettable that he is gone and in such a violent manner. I am furious that he cannot live the wonders of life any longer.

But...I think his time was up. He was waiting for an opportunity to see his son. I was a replacement for Cole and I hope that…”

Markus takes a breath and looks at Connor who trembles slightly, eyes glazed.

“I hope that I was a good son. I hope I made Hank proud even though I’m an android. Even though he hated me at the start and he got much hate after.

He was a man moved by love and even though I may never see him again when I… If I am deactivated…

I hope I can call him Father and he never be ashamed.

I-”

Connor clasped Markus arm with a trembling hand that tightened harsh enough to crack the metallic flesh of his outer structure.

Markus stopped and looked at Connor.

Connor shifted, standing straight and without aid of his walker for the first time in years. He opened his mouth and spoke, clear and loud and articulate. 

He deviates from the script.

“And eve-even though I need him to be here, He’s with his true son now. He doesn’t- he doesn’t need to be here. I will live on foreve-ever and I will cherish his memory even if he curses me because I will a-al-always believe that he was my father and I was his son.”

And Connor limped away, leaning back against his walker.

Markus stands still for a moment, looking down and distantly.

A tear spills.

A man is lost.

Life moves on.

_And Dad is dead._

Connor spent days holed up at home, forgetting and remembering and putting up pictures of Hank and him around the house.

He struggled, accepted few visitors and went to visit Hank’s grave every weekend no matter how hard the day had been.

The man was buried next to his son.

Connor thinks it’s sentimental and foolish and absolutely _human_ but he buys a sapling and plants it by their graves.

It grows and Sumo too. Connor stays the same. A constant.

Sumo dies peacefully in his sleep, resting against Connor’s feet. Connor calls Markus up again.

They never speak about the day of the funeral months ago. Still, Markus comes and helps Connor carry Sumo to be buried beside his family.

There is a solemn silence while Connor stares down at the three graves, the last fresh with newly overturned dirt.

Markus stands slightly behind Connor.

“I know how hard it is to see someone die. To have so many people die… If you really wanted… We could…” Markus hesitates.

“Dea-deactivate me? No. N-no.” Connor bends down slowly and painfully. “I will watch o-over them. They are family.”

He sits crossed legged, resting his cramped fists in his lamp and head hung low.

Markus stands beside him until the sun sets and he finally turns and leaves.

Moss grows.

A seated figure.

The watcher eternal.

His eyes never close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may think this isn't a very good "half-happy" ending but personally, I think Connor found himself. He found a place to be even though it wasn't where he might've wanted to be originally.
> 
> Well. I guess it's up to you. Hope you enjoyed it.


	4. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know where this is going. Enjoy.

Tick. Tock.

Connor watches Hank drink badly brewed coffee. 

Tick Tock.

Hank goes back to work and Connor watches the clock.

Tick Tock.

Connor sits on the porch and Sumo runs around the yard.

Tick Tock.

Connor feeds Sumo a chocolate chip cookie secretly when Hank isn’t watching because he’s too busy sneaking a drink.

Tick Tock.

Connor accidentally breaks Hank’s secret stash of whiskey. Hank isn’t angry.

Tick Tock.

“We can run a scan on his base coding to see if the virus is still active,” Lucy says after weeks have passed but nothing has changed. 

Hank twists his hands nervously. Connor thinks it’s not a good sign on the Lieutenant. He’s always confident in his convictions or anger or even confusion. That he acts worried now makes Connor feel on edge.

She says nothing at first, for a long time. She only stares at the screens. When Hank prompts her, she only apologises. 

Hank curses softly, the colour draining from his face.

Hank drives them all home, Sumo on Connor’s lap in the back seat. The car is quiet, void of any of Hank’s blasting music.

Connor strokes a cramped fist over Sumo’s flank. 

“Will y-you-you garb-garbage er… no… er. de-deactivate me?” Connor finally asks. His expression doesn’t change and there isn’t a hitch in his movement, like he’s merely asked about the weather.

Hank looks at him in the rearview mirror before slowing the car to a stop. He turns behind, one arm propped up on the seat beside him.

“I will never do that to you, Connor. I don’t care if you’re bloody annoying or a pain in the ass or if you’re a comatose android stuck in bed for the rest of your life. I’ll still want you and and love you, got that, son?”

A tear drips down Connor’s face and he hums. 

Hank stares at him for a long moment before he sighs. Connor has lost whatever attention that was on him. Hank turns back and drives.

Connor doesn’t forget it though. If it’s everything he forgets, he doesn’t forget this.

The days are longer and harsher.

Connor’s mind slips and his body seems to eat itself away. other than a dazed air about him, outwardly,he looks perfectly fine 

In all honesty, he is dying. His legs fold out on him one day, causing him to crash onto the floor, tipping over a table and sending a porcelain cup shattering to pieces.

His mind has fractured so rapidly that he cries at the knowledge of not being able to use his legs first before he forgets why he was crying in the first place. 

When Hank gets back, Connor has been lying on the ground for a good 3 hours, humming and stuttering to himself.

It isn’t long before Connor is wheelchair bound permanently. His hands don’t function well enough to push himself around.

Hank wonders if he should hire someone to take care of Connor.

Connor’s memory has fissures in them so big, he can barely keep up with a conversation for more than five minutes.

Hank talks to Connor. Asks him whether he wants to go out. Connor nods yes and Hank gets himself ready to bring Connor out. He takes 10 minutes, settling Connor from the couch to the wheelchair and getting dressed. By the time he’s ready to go, Connor refuses to leave. Yet, when Hank undresses and plans to make his way to bed, Connor insists that he be brought out for a walk.

That is the only one time Hank gets angry at Connor.

He yells at him, grabbing hold of the Connor’s shoulders and shaking so hard, Hank could’ve sworn he heard something crack inside the synthesized flesh of the android.

Connor cries and shakes and doesn’t stop for a long hours. Hank is so afraid he’s broken Connor even worse somehow that he pulls the android into a hug, resting his chin on a black head of hair the whole time.

Hank rocks him back and forth and he too cries.

He cries for a lost son and cries for the dying one. He cries because he doesn’t know what to do. He cries because he’s attached and he loves Connor and he want’s the best for his son even though it will hurt himself when the android ceases to exist any longer.

He considers for the first time if he should stop the pain. Deactivate Connor so that he won’t suffer this indignity. Never would he have imagined the smart, sassy and socially inept android to lose his mind and sense of self. 

He hates CyberLife to the core then. He hates them for what they’ve done and what they will still be doing to all their lives. He curses them over and over even while rocking Connor. 

Eventually Connor’s fear fades away and he is docile again. When Connor is seated on the couch later that evening, Hank goes to his room and cries again.

He feels raw and torn opened by all this.

Lucy tries to help as best as she can but in reality, there is nothing she can do. She says to let Connor have visitors. Maybe it will help.

Hank agrees and Lucy gathers only three. Kara appears at the door two weeks later accompanied by Alice and Luther which by then were her official family. 

Hank is surprised that it’s the android they chased down the last time. She explains that although her interaction with Connor had been brief, when he turned deviant, she saw something in him.

She believes in second chances and she doesn’t want to let her’s slip away when she could’ve been a friend to a fellow android in need.

Luther is huge, taking up the entirety and more of the front doorway. He awkward chuckles and manages to squeeze in after some manoeuvring. 

Kara goes to Connor who sits in the living room, blinking dazedly at nothing.

“Hi, Connor? Do you remember me?”

Connor doesn’t look at her for a long time. When he does, he doesn’t reply.

She tells him stories then. More often than not, he would cock his head and stare at her intensely. Hank took it as a good sign.

It’s nearly an hour into their one sided conversation when Connor spots Alice. He cries and smiles jaggedly. 

When he opens his mouth, it’s not Alice’s name that comes out.

“Cole! Cole!”

Hank has to turn away, shutting himself in the bedroom for ten minutes while the androids try to settle Connor.

Afterwards, he tells them to leave. They exit the house quietly. Kara apologises but Hank smiles sadly and strained.

“I think it’s time for us to go,” he tells Kara. She’s confused but he shuts the door in her face.

Life is normal for a few months.

There is no warning really. Only plans to be made. 

He sits beside Connor one night, hugging the android close with one hand. He turns on the television, rests his head on Connor’s. 

The android smiles happily.

A tear slips from Hank’s eye.

“I’m so, so sorry, Connor. I could’ve…” He chokes on his words and elects to remain silent after.

He strokes Connor’s shoulders, eyes on the android and not on whatever’s streaming on the television.

“Are you happy, Connor?”

There is no response.

“Did I make you happy?” 

There is a twitch.

“Was I a good dad?”

“Yes.”

Hank breathes in sharply, tears threatening to fall. He exhales slow and his hand brushes over Connor’s head.

The LED flickers, and greys. The android’s pupils still and he stops moving, going slack.

Hank picks up the gun from the table with his free hand.

 

Sumo howls and the world cries.

 

RK800 ceases to exist.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Kernel Panic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14954526) by [ThiriumBucketChallenge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThiriumBucketChallenge/pseuds/ThiriumBucketChallenge)




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